


Emperor Ashcan

by manonlechat



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonlechat/pseuds/manonlechat
Summary: "She pictures them like shooting stars, skirring before the wind."A collection of ten stand-alone 100-word Ulquiorra/Orihime drabbles, originally written for the Ulquihime100 community on LiveJournal.
Relationships: Ulquiorra Cifer/Inoue Orihime
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Prompt: Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for dropping in. Welcome to my collection of 100 word Ulquihime drabbles. Each drabble stand-alone; originally written in 2011.

_Prompt: Lust_

The night the girl struck him, Ulquiorra dreamt of soup.

A thin soup with white cubes and seaweed. He had not dreamt since joining Aizen. He had not eaten since removing his mask.

His last meal as a hollow had been a violent, ghoulish affair. It had not involved soup.

By midmorning, the sensation was unmistakable. He was hungry. _Ravenous._ His stomach was a growling pit of unfilled appetite.

He wanted things. He wanted to kill Kurosaki. Prove the uselessness of his struggle. Wanted to smash the girl's hope, her wasted faith—

Ah, but strangely, he didn't want her dead.


	2. Prompt: First Kiss

_Prompt: First Kiss_

And just like that, he is gone.

Orihime lowers her outstretched hand.

Where had he gone? The dry breeze is already scattering ash over the grey sands of Hueco Mundo. Even if she could gather every speck, Ulquiorra would not be there. Had he been one soul or a collection of thousands? She pictures them like shooting stars, skirring before the wind. Tomorrow, would they wake in new bodies—at peace?

Her fingers brush her ruined skirt. She looks down; sees the smudge.

_Had he felt it, at the end?_

She raises her fingers to her lips; presses them there.


	3. Prompt: Five Years Later

_Prompt: Five Years Later_

"Woman, why must I wear this?"

Ulquiorra is gravely curious but obediently extends his arm.

Orihime squirts another glob of SPF 50+ into her palm and rubs it vigorously on his skin.

"Because," she says, shifting back in the sand to assess her handiwork. Ulquiorra glistens with lotion. "You're so pale, the sun could burn you."

She frowns, then snaps her fingers.

"Here!"

She removes her sunhat and plops it on his head. Ulquiorra still looks perplexed as she ties the yellow ribbons beneath his chin.

"But _this_ body will not burn to ash."

"I know," says Orihime, kissing him.


	4. Prompt: Compliments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Inspired by a passage ("Froech in the Dark Pool") from the eighth-century Irish text Táin Bó Fraích.

_Prompt: Compliments_

It was Captain Hitsugaya who presented their group to the new shinigami, a small pale figure in his dark robes.

"I think you all might have met one another before," said Hitsugaya delicately.

And afterwards, when Orihime would see any beautiful thing, she would think it had been more beautiful to see Ulquiorra standing there; his body whole and his skin no longer ashen but suffused with life, his hair black and full, his eyes as green as wet leaves, the pulse quickening in his neck as his mouth opened to speak, his bright sword shining in the autumn air.


	5. Prompt: Murciélago / Segunda etapa

_Prompt: Murciélago / Segunda etapa_

Orihime suffered nightmares after her return from Hueco Mundo.

The spring wind rattled the utility poles and she dreamt of a woman with a fish's teeth. She heard wolves screaming in the night rain. Long tongues leered at her and a hidden voice laughed. Panthers chased her over grey dunes.

In June, the waxy moonlight flooded through her blinds and she dreamt of a man clothed in white, whose name was Death.

Waking alone in her apartment, she would imagine a devil's silhouette in the shadows—spindly and horned, its black wings loosely unfurled.

And then she wouldn't feel afraid.


	6. Prompt: The Heart

_Prompt: The Heart_

"The pain never really goes away, does it?" asks Orihime.

The waiter places the bill on the table and leaves the two customers in peace.

Rangiku smiles gently, resting the tips of her chopsticks against the corner of her mouth.

"The person never goes away." She presses two fingers against Orihime's chest. "He lives _here_ , in places in your heart."

"They died so many years ago," sighs Orihime. "Don't you worry your heart will forget?" She picks indifferently at her noodles.

"Ah, Orihime-chan!" chides Gin affectionately. He sneaks an arm around Rangiku's waist.

Ulquiorra watches them silently, his eyes keen.


	7. Prompt: Happiness

_Prompt: Happiness_

"Woman, explain this," ordered Ulquiorra. He pointed at a sticker on the back of a clipboard Orihime was carrying. It depicted a bald-headed boy in a yellow and black shirt hugging a floppy-eared beagle.

"Happiness is a warm puppy," she read.

Ulquiorra blinked slowly.

"This person's requirements for the state of happiness are fulfilled by a juvenile dog of above average temperature?"

"So?" barked Renji, snatching his clipboard back from Orihime. "What's _your_ definition of happiness?"

"I once encountered a crystalline void of infinite nothingness. Colorless. Odorless. Tasteless. Soundless." He closed his eyes. " _That_ was happiness."

"Good grief," muttered Renji.


	8. Prompt: Maid Uniform

_Prompt: Maid Uniform_

"We're late!" Tatsuki scowled at the clock, looking like a furry assassin in her Halloween bunny suit.

Orihime smoothed the apron of her maid's costume over her thighs.

_What a surprise - it looks good on you._

The little memories struck at the strangest times: an image here, a scrap of conversation there. Forgotten until the moment they reappeared, like a banknote in your spring jacket, or a photo of a former classmate, tucked in a book you'd once read.

"Orihime!"

"Coming!"

She twirled her duster in a thoughtful arc, its black feathers reminding her of night, _cero oscuras_ , and him.


	9. Prompt: Condom

_Prompt: Condom_

"Tatsuki-chan," stammered Orihime. "I don't think—"

"You read _Breaking Dawn_. Do you want a blood-thirsty hybrid baby shattering your spine and gnawing its way out of your guts?"

"But Ulquiorra-kun isn't a vampire—"

"He was dead, wasn't he?"

"Yes—"

"And now he isn't, is he?"

"But—"

"He's pale. He moves at superhuman speeds. He changes into a bat. He has a tragic and tormented backstory."

"We're just going for ice cream—"

"Orihime! **_Do you want a half-undead baby breaking your spine_**?!"

"Well, no..."

With grim satisfaction, Tatsuki pressed the box of condoms into Orihime's hands.


	10. Prompt: Halloween

_Prompt: Halloween_

Orihime loved all seasons.

Winter brought New Year's and skating. But Spring had Easter bunnies and cherry blossoms, and Summer Tanabata, and Fall—when the leaves turned the color of her and Kurosaki-kun's hair—

Fall brought her birthday!

Fall brought Halloween!

It was her favorite Western holiday for three reasons:

1\. Candy ! ! !

2\. Costumes.

3\. At Halloween, the veil between the living and the dead is sheerest.

"In Mexico," said Chad, "we call it _Día de los Muertos_. My grandfather would wear a devil's mask and give me skulls made of sugar."

Ulquiorra, she imagined, would prefer this season, too.


End file.
